


Amazing Grace

by TheOfficialKai517



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 22:10:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20415121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOfficialKai517/pseuds/TheOfficialKai517
Summary: When an accident causes his father to be hospitalized, Varian goes to a church in hopes of finding forgiveness and peace.Turns out, that's not the only thing you can find in a church.





	Amazing Grace

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fun, goofy little idea I had which spun kind of out of control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of stole Pianist!Varian from Erato_12345.  
And this entire chapter kind of got its basis from that one scene in "Home Alone."

Varian was used to messing things up. It was all he ever seemed to do anymore.

But this time was different. He'd messed up bad enough to put his father in the hospital. It hardly seemed fair to Quirin, and nobody thought that more than Varian himself. He _tried_ to be a good son, but everything that he tried... He failed at.

It was a crisp September evening, but it felt nice enough that, once he had put a sweater and some long pants on, Varian could go for a walk to clear his head.

Maybe learn to forgive himself.

Up ahead, he could see the United Church of Corona. He smiled a little, a few vague memories of church services held there for Christmas and Easter coming back to his mind.

They weren't devoutly religious, Varian and Quirin, but... Something about the church always made Varian feel warm inside.

Maybe that was the place he was supposed to go to seek out forgiveness. Maybe a quick prayer would help him realize that God was on his side... Or something like that.

As he neared the building, he could hear the sound of a woman's voice coming from inside. She was singing, her voice loud and powerful.

"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me..."

Varian sighed. Of _course_ there was someone in there. Just his luck; he'd have people practically over his shoulder, watching as he sat and contemplated the last twenty-four hours that had passed. But still... He couldn't fight the powerful tug that he felt at his heart. He couldn't deny the sudden instinct that he had to go in there.

So he turned down the dirt path that led up to the church door, opening it and sneaking inside.

While he hadn't been inside in _years_, nothing seemed to have changed since he had last visited with his father. It still smelled of pine. The pews were still in their neat rows, all facing the front... Where the woman who was singing stood.

Varian took a seat in one of the pews in the back, preparing himself to bow his head, close his eyes, maybe even fold his hands (they weren't terribly religious, but Quirin _had_ made sure to teach his son the proper 'prayer posture') and pray. But the woman up front captured his attention.

She had dark hair which curled wildly but still managed to frame her face perfectly. Her lips were full and dark, contrasting greatly with the ghostly pale color of her skin. She wore a dark red dress which nearly matched the color of her lips perfectly. Her eyes were closed, but Varian had a feeling that once he saw them, he wouldn't easily forget them.

Because this woman was absolutely beautiful.

"My chains are gone, I am set free. My God, my Savior has ransomed me..."

Varian looked around. It seemed that this woman was singing for nobody whatsoever. Aside from the two of them, the church was completely empty.

Just then, the woman opened her eyes. Her singing faltered as she noticed Varian sitting in the back row, staring at her intently.

"Who are you?" she asked, "how did you get in here? I thought Jane..."

She groaned suddenly, shaking her head. "Jane didn't lock the door, did she?"

Varian shrugged. "No idea. The door was unlocked when I came up to the building, though."

"Well, you've been here long enough," she snapped suddenly, "she told me I'd have the entire place to myself as I practice..."

"Y'know, I play," Varian interjected quickly, "the piano, that is. I noticed that you don't have anyone accompanying you."

The woman sighed deeply. "Fine. But only for one song, so you'd better choose good."

Varian smiled. "One last thing: your name. I never caught your name."

She raised an eyebrow. "And why, exactly, do you need to know _that_?"

"I tend to make my song choices based on what I know of a person. All I know of you is your voice and your looks--"

"And you think my _name_ will help?" she snorted, "no, thank you."

At this point, he was already seated at the baby grand piano near the front of the chapel. The woman was facing him, hands on her hips. She was scowling.

"If it'll help, I'll go first," he offered, "the name's Varian. Varian Vatter. I've lived in Old Corona all eighteen years of my life, and... And I came here to seek forgiveness."

"Forgiveness? Forgiveness for _what_?"

"Nuh-uh. That's top-secret information I'd only consider telling people that I _know_. And even then..."

The woman groaned, exasperated. "Fine. Just... _Fine._ My name's Cassandra Pendergraft, and I've lived in Corona for most of my life. I'm not gonna tell you my age, but I was only adopted when I was six. And I'm only here because my best friend is the pastor's daughter and she wouldn't stop pestering me about how good she thinks my voice is and whow she thinks I should put it to 'good use.'"

Varian nodded, contemplative for a moment or two. And then he began playing the first piece that came to mind.

* * *

"I'll admit, that was... Challenging," Cassandra said once Varian had hit the final key, "I've never done _Days of Elijah _on my own before."

"You did wonderfully," he responded, standing up from his seat, "your friend's right; you have an... Angelic voice."

She snorted derisively. "I hardly think 'angelic' is the right word for it, kid."

Varian frowned. "What _would_ you call it, then?"

He had nearly stopped playing several times throughout the song, longing to simply sit and listen to her voice. But he had forged on somehow, trying to remind himself that he was there for forgiveness, _not_ to embarrass himself yet again.

"I'd simply call it 'good.'"

"Alright, then," he folded, "your voice is good."

_Good times ten,_ he mentally added,_ maybe even more._

"Your piano play's decent, too," Cass admitted, "if you'd like, I can put in a word with the people in charge here, see if I can get you a weekend gig."

"That... That'd be amazing. Thank you."

She turned around and went to the pews to pick up her coat and bag. "Don't flatter yourself, kid. We've been needing a pianist for _ages,_ and you're the first decent player I've met in some time."

"Hey. It's a win nonetheless."


End file.
